


Down to the Bone and Still Losing Weight

by musiclily88



Series: Wasted Youth// There Wasn't Much to Waste [4]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Porn, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 14:16:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiclily88/pseuds/musiclily88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis was not very good at sitting and waiting and watching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down to the Bone and Still Losing Weight

**Author's Note:**

> I swear to god this series is just me emoting at my keyboard before curling up in a ball of sadness and angst. BUT I brought the porn back in this segment. I hope y’all like Louis topping (we all like Louis topping, am I right, yes I am).
> 
> BUT. This is going down a dark road, folks. Please be prepared.
> 
> I have at least one more section planned after this. If you’ve stayed with me this long, I am so thankful. And also I’m so, so sorry.

Louis was not very good at sitting and waiting and watching. He had never been taught patience, because that would have required more parental involvement than his mother had time for—and his stepfather was the posterboy for the emotionally uninvolved. He wanted to continue to pester Liam, but his self-control extended just far enough that he refrained, realizing he might literally incite Liam’s death. 

He mollified himself by following Zayn around, which meant that he also interacted with Niall. The latter seemed to laugh at everything he said, which Louis found mystifying. He was amused at Zayn’s ability to brood at any given moment, his state of mind transparent in the twitching fingers that dove into his pockets to retrieve cigarettes.

Louis took to smoking with Zayn on the bleachers when he skived off class, rather than sitting on the bonnet of his car. While Zayn wasn’t always marvelous company, he updated Louis about Liam and had a drug habit that rivaled Louis’ own.

“So how’s your beard treating you today?” Louis asked one Monday, reclining as gracefully as possible against the metal bleachers. “She seems sweet.”

“What were you and Liam even doing together?” Zayn muttered, inhaling form his cigarette. “You are a terrible person.”

“Professional curiosity on my part. Wanted to see what a good person is actually made up of.” Louis cupped his hand around his own cigarette and lit it. “I haven’t met many of them in my life.”

“God, you’re fucking ridiculous. I have no idea why he put up with you.”

“He didn’t just put up with me, mate.”

“I don’t want details of your sex life, pervert.” Zayn scrunched his nose.

“No, I mean. He did coursework and shit for me.”

“That’s disgusting.” Zayn rolled his eyes. “I expected better from him.”

“I dunno, man. I really am a good lay. I considered it fair recompense.”

“Why are you even in school? Couldn’t you just have quit at fourteen and taken a bath in your parents’ money for the rest of your life?”

“We don’t have a vault of gold coins for me to swan dive into. I’m not exactly Scrooge McDuck.”

“Yeah, I gathered you’re not super miserly from all the stupid clothes you kept buying Liam.”

Louis snorted. “He was hardly a kept man, all right? I’d hate to tarnish that shiny-happy image you have of him. You probably wank to thoughts of him helping the homeless, or giving stray dogs a bath. Fuck.” He exhaled raggedly, shaking his head. “What’s that like?”

“What’s what like? Your delusions aren’t really giving me anything to work with, here,” Zayn responded neutrally.

“Being in love.”

“Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean everyone around you is, you know.”

Louis shrugged. “You don’t have to be gay to be in love with him.”

“Such brilliance from one so young,” Zayn mocked, rolling his eyes yet again. “I don’t even know how you got him to sleep with you.”

“I don’t remember, really. I probably just asked politely. I was brought up with impeccable manners, after all.” Louis threw away the butt of his cigarette and crossed his legs at the knee. “So what’s your story then?”

“Like you care.” Zayn tossed away the last of his cigarette and lit up another.

“It’s a way to pass the time.”

“You could do your coursework to pass the time. Or go out for sport. Theatre.”

“Do you do any of those things, then?” Louis asked, turning to give Zayn a small smile.

“Coursework, at any rate.”

“Otherwise you sit at the back of the library giving everyone that smoldering gaze. Or you drag a cute girl to the handicapped toilet and shove your hand under her skirt, right, and she has to bite down on your shoulder to keep from being too loud? Or you sit on the edge of the football pitch and do drugs. With me.”

“We’re not doing drugs.”

“We easily can be.”

“For someone who told our literature teacher that comedic wasn’t a word, you’ve got quite the ability to make rousing speeches.”

“Aw, babes, I’m flattered you remember just minute details about me. And to think we’ve only been dating one week this Friday.” Louis reached over to pinch Zayn’s cheek, getting a slap in return.

“Don’t pinch me.”

“Fine, sensitive. It’s entertaining being a dick. I kinda like seeing the looks of hatred from people who are too scared to say anything mean to me.”

“You’re not _that_ rich and powerful, bastard. Stop talking shit.”

“This semester alone, my stepdad donated enough to fund the entire scholarship program. For the next three years.”

“All so you can fuck the charity cases, is that it? Quite a handy system.”

“No, he mostly does it so I don’t get kicked out right away.”

“Oh.” Zayn was silent a moment. “That’s your schtick, then? Pulling stupid pranks or sommat. Running students’ pants up the flagpole?”

Louis shrugged, considering. “Erm. Is showing up drunk every day for two weeks considered a prank these days? Or fucking the headmistress’ son in her office. I also tried to blackmail one of the chem tutors to teach me to make molly.”

“Christ. Why do you even show up to classes at this rate?”

“It’s something to do.”

“Seems you’ve been surprisingly mellow since being here. All things considered.”

“I’ve grown weary in my old age.” Louis flicked his fringe out of his eyes.

“Or you’re lying about all that shit.”

“Lying’s pointless. I have nobody to impress.”

“You’re kind of a spoiled brat.”

“Yeah. And that’s the only reason you’re sitting here with me right now, isn’t it? Kindred spirit.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Zayn said coldly.

“Yeah, right. I recognize an expensive salon quiff when I see one. Also I’ve seen that stupid car you drive. And your boots are fucking Prada, by the way.”

Zayn went totally still, fag dangling from his lips. “For someone who claims to be so apathetic about the entire world, you’ve taken a shine to noticing me.”

“Yeah, well. You’re hot, aren’t you?”

“I’m more than a piece of ass, all right.”

“Fine. But I still get to look at you. And even if I’m not into all the silly trappings of wealth, there’s still a pretty face under there.”

“Your apathy’s not attractive, you know.”

“I don’t care.”

Zayn snorted. “Fitting. Does the façade ever get old, then?”

“S’not a façade. I just don’t really care. It’s like a personality trait. I’m just sort of fine with most things.”

“It’s not a personality trait, it’s called clinical depression, you jagoff.”

“Hm. An interesting distinction. Yes, I suppose my life is full of an unknowable sadness, you’re right. Your concern is touching.”

“I’m not _concerned._ Not in the strictest sense. I’m kind of confused about your whole thing with Liam, I guess, and that’s making me interested in…preserving his faith in you.”

“Preserving his faith in me? Excuse me?” Louis laughed aloud.

“No, that sounds wrong.” Zayn shook his head, shifting sideways on the metal bench. “But I don’t—like, I don’t want him to be wrong about you.”

Louis chuckled, considering his words carefully. “Well that’s not up to either of you. Especially not you. But not him either. He made it clear I have no effect whatsoever on his actions or behaviors or emotions.”

“Really,” Zayn deadpanned.

“Yep. And when I told him that was fine, he ran away and I haven’t really seen him since. Per his wishes.”

“You’re fine with all that? Fine that he cut and run?”

“I wouldn’t expect anything different.” Louis shot Zayn what he knew was a blinding grin. “I’m basically here for the, like, fucking and drug-dispensing and the dirty innuendo during chemistry. No one holds on longer than a semester, and that’s fine.”

Zayn snorted. “You’re an idiot. I have no idea if you’re trying to make me pity you or what, but I’d like you to know it’s not working.”

“Again, mate, I don’t care.”

“Are you suicidal or something? I can call the nurse if I need to. I don’t mind.”

“Um.” Louis thought for a moment. “Not, like, actively.”

“So. Do you want me to call the nurse, then?”

“No thanks,” Louis drawled, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Right.” Zayn paused. “So how serious were you about the drugs you mentioned?”

“Fairly serious.” Louis grimaced. “And I’m sick of being here. Let’s go back to mine. I have something to show you.”

***  
Zayn parked in the c-curve of Louis’ driveway before entering the side door, following Louis. They traipsed upstairs to Louis’ room only after grabbing two bottles of red wine and a bag of crisps.

“I’m not refurbishing a caravan and running away to join the circus. I’m just not,” Zayn insisted, walking up the stairs.

“Why not? You’ve go the look for it.” Louis may have set up the staircase before Zayn in order to show off his fantastic arse. And he knew he had a fantastic arse.

“What, the vaguely ethnic look?” Zayn countered, both sarcastic and incredulous.

“No, the look that implies you can talk to spirits and tell me when my ship is coming in.”

“You mean I should put in a hoop earring and start telling fortunes then?”

“I mean. If that’s your life’s dream.”

“It’s not.”

Louis pulled open the door to his room—the room delegated to him that contained few possessions he truly cared about, that is, the room that he slept in most nights and fucked in during the day, the room with white walls—and let Zayn inside.

“Fine. That’s fine,” Louis said, dropping to his knees on the floor. He unceremoniously dumped the bottles and food on the carpet beside himself.

“Did you really shag the headmistress’ son in her office?” Zayn asked, voice tinged in reluctant curiosity.

“Yeah,” Louis replied wistfully. “Harry was a good lad. Ah well.”

“You’re kind of cold, you know that?”

“I’ve been made aware.” Louis shrugged, opening a bottle and moving to sit on top of his duvet.

Zayn swallowed so jaggedly that Louis saw it from across the room. “So, what, are we going to do drugs and fall in love now?” He shucked off his jacket.

“I don’t do love. But I am willing to do drugs.” Louis shrugged, shoving his hand into his pocket. Then he shoved a pill into his mouth and swallowed it down with a swig of wine. He scooted backward across his duvet, raising a brow.

“Fine. Hand it over.” Zayn raised a hand, walking toward Louis with a purpose.

“What are you gonna do in return?” Louis asked, eyebrow cocked. 

“Oh no you’re pressuring me, oh no, peer pressure is so frightening,” he said, rolling his eyes. He bit his bottom lip as though weighing his options. He straddled Louis, shoving his hand into one pocket and forcing his lips against Louis’ without comment. He forced his tongue into Louis’ mouth, shoving their lips together with hot, bruising force. He was nothing like Liam. Zayn was angles and bites and nips and coarse stubble and so many teeth. He was bony hips and sharp collarbones, and Louis liked it. 

Zayn pulled away, popping two pills into his mouth while simultaneously grinding hard down into Louis’ pelvis. They both groaned and he watched Zayn dry-swallow the pills.

“Fuck,” Louis muttered, shoving himself upward with barely any effort.

Zayn swallowed, moving backward away slightly. Their hips stayed slotted together, and Louis sighed heavily, arching forward so they were flush against one another.

“The polite host in me wants to offer you a drink,” Louis whispered against Zayn’s ear, sucking gently against the shell of his cartilage. 

“I’m fine,” Zayn breathed.

“You are?”

Zayn nodded. “I don’t need a drink, idiot.”

Louis bit down on Zayn’s ear. “Did you just call me an idiot?”

“Might have done.”

“You realize this isn’t the playground, right?” Louis teased, pulling away. “You don’t need to kick me in the shins and pull my pigtails out of some misguided attempt to flirt with me.” He leaned backwards, supporting himself with his forearms pressed to the mattress.

“You talk way too much.” Zayn shoved his hips forward, ramming Louis hard into the mattress. Louis hissed at the friction. “I might have to gag you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Zayn brought his hand up and covered the bottom half of Louis’ face with it. “I definitely would.” Louis narrowed his eyes but let Zayn’s hand stay clamped down. “I know you think no one can keep up with you, but you’re not so fucking hard, okay?” Louis smirked against the palm of Zayn’s hand. “Not _that_ kind of hard, twat. You’re not that fucking impenetrable, all right?”

Louis raised his pointer finger in the air and waggled it until Zayn lifted up his hand. “Versatile tops know quite a lot about being penetration, actually.”

Zayn replaced his hand. “Fuck, I really am going to have to gag you.”

Louis batted at Zayn’s hand before rocking his hips up and scrabbling against Zayn’s shoulders. Flipping over, he straddled Zayn’s hips and returned the favor, clamping his hands down on top of Zayn’s mouth and pressing him into the mattress. “If this is some weird attempt at psychological warfare, I’m over it. If you’re fucking me as a way of getting revenge on Liam, it won’t work, because he doesn’t care about me. And I don’t think he’s into you.” 

Zayn bucked up against Louis, rage blatant in his eyes. If Louis had been trying to hold Liam down, he would have been sorely outmatched, but Zayn was built a bit more like he was: scrappy and kind of slender for a guy, collarbones prominent above the neck of his shirt. Louis bore down, anchoring Zayn into the bed with his steady hips and constant weight, refusing to let him up.

“I’m not done,” Louis continued in warning tones. “If you’re just in for a fuck, that’s cool. I don’t have the capacity for anything else, plus the molly’s gonna be kicking in soon, so I’m up for anything.” Louis eased up on Zayn’s mouth slightly. “But this would be a piss-poor attempt at revenge, yeah?”

Zayn shoved him away, face dark. “I’m not getting revenge, you giant knob.” He pushed his hands into Louis’ shoulders, forcing him backward into a vague kneeling position.

“I do have a giant knob, actually, thanks for noticing.”

“Shut up, it’s my turn. And you still talk too much.” Zayn kicked his legs up, forcing Louis off of him. They sat across from one another, Zayn’s chest heaving in and out with pent-up fury. “I’m fucking you because I want to, though you’re making it seem less and less attractive the more you blather on. And I’m about two minutes away from walking out if you don’t _shut the fuck up.”_

“You’re moody. But fine. One condition.” Zayn raised a brow but didn’t sigh as Louis expected him to. “I’m topping.”

Zayn considered this, twitching his lips to one side. “Fine. And I don’t understand how you’re this coherent when you’re clearly fully hard.”

Louis shot him a dirty grin. “I’m only half-hard, mate.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Zayn responded, finally shocked.

“You said that already.”

Zayn rolled his eyes and moved his fingers to the hem of Louis’ shirt, yanking it over his head roughly. “Liar.”

Louis raised his arms. “Have at it.”

Zayn unbuttoned Louis’ jeans and shucked them down, pulling his boxer-briefs down in the process. “Shit.”

“Take your kit off.” Zayn complied, shrugging out of his skinny jeans while Louis shrugged his pants and jeans the rest of the way off. Louis paused to watch as Zayn removed his shirt, emitting a soft whistle as a series of tattoos came into view. “So fucking hot.”

“Shut up now,” Zayn demanded, surging forward to tackle Louis lightly onto the duvet. Their lips met with bruising force, and Louis felt a bright need growing in his gut. He gripped at the back of Zayn’s neck greedily, biting and sucking into his mouth with total abandon. He rolled on top of Zayn and caught his breath.

Hot and dirty, that was all he needed. He ducked to one side of the bed, rummaging for condoms and lube. He threw them at Zayn’s chest and crouched down to shove Zayn’s legs apart, thrusting his face forward. Biting into Zayn’s pelvis, he slathered his finger and inched it into Zayn slowly. He enjoyed the hiss he earned for his troubles.

He put a placating palm on Zayn’s hip, pressing his thumb into the skin there. He added a second finger, gratified when Zayn’s back arched off the bed effortlessly. Louis placed his lips onto Zayn’s abs, massaging his two fingers in and out slowly before adding a third. He moved them in and out, waiting for the rhythm to even out along with Zayn’s breathing. Then he scissored them apart slowly, stretching him out with great care.

“Good. M’good, Lou,” Zayn slurred, pressing one hand up against the headboard and turning his face toward the ceiling. Louis bit down against the skin of Zayn’s stomach, holding it between his teeth for moments before letting up, appreciating the sharp exhalation he earned.

“You sure?” he murmured, nuzzling his stubble into Zayn’s hip.

_“Yes.”_

Louis removed his fingers slowly, hearing the low keening from Zayn’s throat as he ripped open the condom packet with his teeth, rolling it onto his dick with expert speed. He bit down hard on Zayn’s inner thigh, knowing he would leave a mark, before he slotted their bodies together with a small smile.

“Ready?” he whispered, teasing with every ounce of his being.

“Now, you idiot.” Zayn smacked his arse roughly, eyes still closed.

Louis hummed at the heat against his skin, hummed in the back of his throat for the sting of it. Then he rammed into Zayn artlessly, gracelessly, enjoying the openly pained look on his face. He kissed it away with a laugh.

“Shut up,” Zayn admonished, biting Louis’ lower lip angrily. “And fuck me.”

Louis sped up his hips, thrusting into Zayn with a fervent hunger that lay naked on his face. Before he knew what was happening, their skin was slapping together and he saw dark spots behind his eyes. Even so, he picked up the pace, moving at a bruising speed that had Zayn wincing and gasping.

He fisted Zayn’s cock in one hand, lazily pumping, as he was much more intent on driving forward and _forward and forward._

Again, his gut felt white-hot and greedy and part of him couldn’t help but smirk and ask, “So. Trying to figure out if you’re gay or not?”

Zayn’s arm snaked up to clap over Louis’ mouth. Louis bit down, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of Zayn’s palm. Their eyes watered as Louis continued thrusting, never losing rhythm. “Shut up,” Zayn demanded, hand gripping tight over Louis’ laughing mouth.

Louis licked against Zayn’s skin, forcing his cock downward at a harsh pace he doubted he could keep up for very long. “God you’re infuriating,” Zayn whispered, biting Louis’ jaw with his hand still clamped tight.

They spent moments and minutes in that bruising embrace, Louis thrusting desperately forward while Zayn shoved his hand into Louis’ mouth further, nearly causing him to gag. Then he smiled, pressing against Zayn’s shoulders with intensity, hips jutting forward.

He a shudder pass through Zayn moments before come spilled onto his fist. Zayn bore down and Louis rode him through it, feeling muscles clench around his own cock. Moments later he was coming too, hard and fast, a groan edging its way around the hand Zayn still had clamped on his mouth.

They remained pressed together for a few moments more, their breathing mingling loudly in the air between them. Zayn slowly removed his hand from Louis’ mouth, biting his jaw for good measure. Louis pulled out, feeling slick and raw. He sighed loudly and collapsed sideways, closing his eyes.

“Christ, how many closets do you have? And which wall is the bathroom in?” Zayn asked, sounding slightly exasperated in addition to fucked-out.

“Double doors all the way to the right.” Louis waved vaguely before opening his eyes. He smiled as he watched Zayn walking with a hitch in his step. He closed the bathroom door with a slam.

Louis tied off the condom and threw it in the bin before lying back down to enjoy the tingling of his skin against the soft duvet. He fanned his palms out on the bed and stared at the white ceiling, feeling sunbursts light up behind his eyes.

“Do you care if I smoke in here?” Zayn asked, returning to the room and padding toward the bed. He rummaged in the pocket of his jeans, extricating a pack of fags and his lighter.

“Go for it.”

“Do you want me to open the window or something?”

“I honestly don’t care.”

Zayn sat back down on the bed, crossing his legs beneath him. He shot Louis a speculative glance. He handed him a cigarette and lit one for himself. “I’ll figure it out eventually, you know.”

“What?” Louis held the cigarette between his lips but didn’t light it.

“Whether or not this is all an act.”

“Godspeed, my friend.” Louis sat up, lighting his fag. “I’m not even sure I know.” He leaned back against his headboard, surveying Zayn unabashedly. He was sprawled out on the bed, still naked. He radiated heat, and he was fucking beautiful. “What’s your story then?”

“What?” Zayn’s head jerked sideways in surprise.

“You’ve been welcomed into my inner world. Your turn. Spill.”

“Your inner world? Really?” Zayn glanced around the room. “It looks like everything in here was plucked from a Harrod’s showroom by someone who’s never met you.”

Louis shrugged, ashing his cigarette onto the carpet. “That’s pretty accurate actually.”

Zayn stood up to collect an ashtray from on top of Louis’ desk across the room. “You’re kind of disgusting.”

“Quit changing the subject.” Louis narrowed his eyes, gaze following Zayn’s figure.

“There’s not much to say, all right?” He sat down on the edge of Louis’ bed, flicking his cigarette into the ashtray.

“Can’t quite believe that.” He trailed one finger down the outside of Zayn’s thigh, which was littered with a large constellation of scars no bigger around than a pinky finger. “These in particular seem to have a story behind them.”

Zayn pulled his leg away, moving toward the foot of the bed. “What would you know about it?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t. But I always know what buttons to prod.” Louis looked down at the cherry of his cigarette then back to Zayn’s leg. He held it aloft, gesturing vaguely. “How recent are those ones?”

“The oldest.” Zayn exhaled smoke through his nostrils, shrugging. “I got the tattoos to cover the ones on my arms. Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you care?”

“Does my curiosity imply that I care?” Louis asked, voice cut low. He tipped his head to the side and raised a brow.

“You’re an asshole,” Zayn breathed, stubbing out his cigarette and getting to his feet. He got dressed while Louis watched disinterestedly, ashing his cigarette off the side of the bed.

“You’re beautiful, you know.”

Zayn’s movements stilled. “Fuck off.” He pulled his clothes on, fishing his phone from the pocket of his jacket.

“Give Liam my regards.” Louis’ lip quirked up.

Zayn threw the ashtray at him. It hit the headboard and fell onto the mattress beside Louis, unbroken. He stamped his way out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

Louis closed his eyes, only belatedly realizing his cheeks were wet with tears.

***

Louis walked downstairs sometime after sundown, entering the kitchen to retrieve bottles of water. He found Lottie and Felicite sitting at the kitchen table, the former drinking a smoothie and the latter spooning ice cream straight from a carton.

Lottie looked up at him, eyes dark. “When was the last time you ate?” she asked him, setting down her glass.

“I have no idea.”

***  
Two days later, Louis slid off the bonnet of his car as soon as he saw Zayn exit the school doors. Walking toward him purposefully, he had mere moments to decide what to say. 

“Where is he?”

Liam had been absent from school for two days.

“Get the fuck away from me,” Zayn growled, shoving at Louis’ shoulder with one hand. His face was closed-off and murderous. Louis shivered a little but followed as Zayn started across the carpark.

“Just. Tell me where he is.”

Zayn whirled on him, crowding into his space. “I don’t fucking know, okay?”

Louis pushed forward, feeling erratic and dangerous. “You’re lying.”

“I don’t know.” Zayn turned back around, hunching his shoulders deeper into his jacket. Louis followed, biting his lip. He watched Zayn take his phone from his pocket as it emitted a small chirping noise.

“Is that him?” Louis caught up to him easily, bumping into his shoulder accidentally.

“None of your business.” Zayn peered at the screen before blanching. “Shit.”

“Where is he?”

“Hospital.” He shoved the phone into his pocket and marched across the pavement. “Don’t fucking follow me, Louis. I swear to god.”

“Which hospital, Zayn?”

Zayn turned on him again, face red with pure rage. He pointed with a sturdy finger. “You mean _nothing,_ all right? Nothing at all, to him or to anyone else.” His nostrils flared and his chest heaved. Louis wanted to kiss him. “So back the hell off.”

“Which hospital is he in, Zayn?” Louis repeated with measured calm.

“No.” Zayn turned back around, practically running to his car. “If you follow me there, I swear I’ll put you in a fucking coma.”

“Then take me with you.”

“Fuck off.” He pulled open the drivers-side door, nearly hitting Louis in the face. He paused for a moment, jaw clenched. “Go away, or I’m going to punch you.”

Louis backed off slowly. Then he jogged to his car, extricating his keys from one pocket so he could open the door quickly. He settled in and started the ignition in one motion, and then he followed Zayn.


End file.
